☀︎☀︎☀︎
Loki wasn't particularly pleased about being in pain and the incessant beeping coming from the foreign machine next to his bed was irritating him very much.
It had gone off the moment he'd torn off the tubes those idiotic humans had stuck up his nose and wouldn't shut up, but he couldn't do much about it—he was shackled to the bed and his reach wasn't far enough to rip the machine apart. Just as he was trying to get to it again, his fingertips slightly brushing the edge, the door opened and suddenly the pain he was in, the cuffs that restrained him nor the irritant of sound were enough to scratch at his nerves like the man that stood in the doorway.
"Loki."
The god of mischief watched as his brother walked into the room, closing the door behind him and standing at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed and that unbearably stern expression on his face.
"What is," he said suddenly, tugging at his cuffs, "the meaning of this? I am weak and frail. Surely there is no need for me to be bound."
"You attacked Earth."
"They haven't gotten over that yet?"
"Be serious," Thor snapped, "not only are you responsible for the death of hundreds and the wreckage of a city, you held Agent Rogers as your prisoner for three days."
"Really? It felt like I was the prisoner," he mumbled under his breath.
"Loki."
He rolled his eyes with a loud groan and let his head drop back against the pillow lazily.
"If I knew my actions would result in a lecture, I never would've done it," he said, keeping his tone casual as he knew doing so would infuriate his brother.
"When the time comes, I will take you back to Asgard and Odin will deal with you," Thor demanded. "The only good to come out of this is the Tesseract being safely returned to the king's vault."
"Did you not tell the miscreants that I'm perfectly capable of healing myself?" Loki swiped at the still beeping contraption in vain with a hiss of anger.
"Your abilities have been an enormous fascination amongst the field of healers here and they insisted on examining you. Who was I to stop them?" He raised a brow in amusement as the god of mischief strained for it once more before giving up entirely.
"I am not your entertainment."
"No. The only reason we're still here is because someone wants to speak with you and I had no say in deciding whether or not that would happen."
Thor looked a little annoyed about that, but Loki merely chuckled, relaxing into his bed.
"I see you've finally met the wall of damned stubbornness they call Moonshadow," he said with a slight smirk.
"She'll be here soon," was all Thor could say before he walked out, leaving behind the god of mischief to stare at the door in disgust before lunging fruitlessly at the cursed machine that continued to beep, oblivious to its attacker.
——————-
"Thank you."
Willow smiled at the attendant and the woman returned it before quietly leaving the room. Steve had come in just as she was done assessing the young woman and he nodded at her in passing.
"How's it looking?"
"Fine," she said, hopping off and shaking out her legs.
"Here," he unlatched an object hanging from his belt and handed it to her, "one of the search teams managed to dig it out. I don't know if it'll still work with your wristband."
"Thanks."
She nodded appreciatively and extended the baton before strapping it to her back.
Steve watched as she moved over to the sink to splash some water over her face as she was still very dirty and hadn't had the chance to change yet.
He considered letting her go and take a shower, but the news he'd received while she was gone was too important to put off. As she dried up, Steve cleared his throat to get her attention.
She looked at him while rubbing the hand towel across the back of her neck.
"You okay?"
"I know the past few days haven't been that great on you, but—"
"Steve," she put the towel down, "if you're gonna tell me that I can't talk to Loki, you're not gonna get anywhere. You may not trust him, but at this point, I don't have a choice."
"What?"
"I'll manage it. I just need to listen to him, that's all," she said, giving him a dismissive wave. He drew back in surprise and her brows rumpled in confusion as he took a step back.
"That's not you."
"What are you talking—"
"What did he do to you?" Steve thundered, moving to place his hands on her shoulders. He was studying her face intensely and she wrinkled her nose before pushing him off.
"He didn't do anything, jeez!"
"Look, Agent Barton struggled with the same problem. Loki had him under some kind of mind control and it's possible that he could have put you under the same thing."
Willow was staring at him in amazement and disbelief.
It took a few minutes to process what he was saying before she shook her head and reached for the door.
"I'm outta here."
"Will, I can't let you—"
"Stop it," she snapped as he blocked her path, "you're being ridiculous!"
"I'm considering every possibility right now!" He argued. "Just three days ago you were itching to kill him and now you're listening to what he has to say? You're defending him? What am I supposed to think?"
"You're supposed to trust me! What, am I so dull you have to come up with some cracked idea that I'm being mind-controlled? I can't produce a single thought for myself so obviously I have to be under some sort of influence?" She raged, her fists clenching at her sides.
"You know that's not what I meant!"
"Then what did you mean?!"
Knock, knock, knock.
Steve moved away from the door to reveal Bruce who was avoiding their eyes by awkwardly looking up at the ceiling, trying his best to pretend like he hadn't just heard them yelling at each other.
"Dr. Banner," Willow greeted him politely, trying to quell her anger.
"Hey, nice to see you, Willow," he said casually, "have any of you seen Thor, by the way?"
"He was with Loki last. Why?"
"We have a little something—well, not little, but you get what I'm trying to say. It's down in the lab. We're trying to figure out what to do with it since it just kinda reappeared out of nowhere."
"What is it?" Willow questioned, completely ignoring Steve as she walked over to Bruce's side.
"The scepter."
——————-
Seven minutes.
That's how long Willow watched, leaning against the door, as Loki pretended to sleep for the sake of his own sanity.
He didn't look as damaged as she thought he'd be save a cut that trailed the side of his face and ended at the top of his cheek nor was he any cleaner, made obvious by the thick layer of dust that coated his armor.
She had shown no interest in the scepter's appearance and pushed past Steve to do what she meant to do, but not only did Loki not want to speak to her, merely seeing her made him loathe himself for displaying such unguarded behavior based on a primitive promise. There was no reason to trust the young woman in front of him except for the fact that he had set out to at least tell someone the truth before his inevitable death. If the Tesseract hadn't dumped them in the bunker, he would be scot-free with no worries on his mind except to keep hidden and tow around a Midgardian prisoner while trying to figure out how to get rid of her.
What he was going to do with her at the time of his escape, he didn't know.
Perhaps it was simply the petty idea of being able to overcome one of Earth's little heroes while in the heat of the moment—the thought of selling her had crossed his mind once or twice, if he was being honest, and cracking an eye open to see that she was still standing there looking quite irritated made him settle on that decision should the opportunity ever rise.
She sat on the rolling stool and wheeled herself over to the side of his bed, slapping at the machine and shutting it off to which he sighed in relief at the sweet silence that lasted less than a second.
"You promised me," Willow said accusingly.
"Promises are made to be broken. For example, rules—those are created for the sole purpose of being broken," he replied, opening his eyes.
"So, you were lying."
Loki shrugged, unable to admit that he hadn't once spoken a lie when Willow leaned back, shaking her head.
"Steve was right. I never should have listened to you."
She stood up and glanced at the machine before pressing a button.
He winced as it began its horrible beeping once more.
"Does that bother you?" She asked loudly.
He glared at her, but said nothing.
"You wanna know what bothers me?"
Willow slid a knife that she'd stolen from the med room out of her pocket and leaned forward.
It was not only annoying to see their roles reversed and the fact that she was mirroring him, but she was very much enjoying it, Loki could tell by the way she lightly placed the edge against his temple. He did not fear her—there was no reason to, he was a god, after all—but he had a little trouble convincing himself of that at the impassive look on her face, the same one she'd given him when they first met and she had held a gun to his forehead.
She ran the blade slowly down to his chin as if it were a feather rather than a deadly weapon and his skin was prickling in an excited sort of way when he let out a small breath as she pressed the knife into the soft flesh right above his collarbone.
"Liars."
Willow swiftly slashed her blade through the side of the machine, causing it to let out a high-pitched wail that began to prolong itself, turning into something much more worse and much more loud. She had had her hearing stripped from her before so the shrieking sound wasn't much of a bother, but Loki was trying to murder the object with his eyes and he was failing miserably.
The super soldier straightened and walked over to the door.
She was purposely stalling as she slowly twisted the knob and Loki, who was having an internal battle with himself, sighed in frustration and called out to her to stop.
Willow turned back to him.
"Don't waste my time," she snapped, "there's only so much patience I can have with you. You're just lucky I'm here."
"Why are you here? What do you gain from hearing a story that has nothing at all to do with you?" Loki questioned for the pure sake of being snippy.
He would give her what she wanted, but that didn't mean he had to give it to her right away.
Willow moved to unplug the noisy machine with a glare.
"You destroyed my home, Loki, which means it has everything to do with me," she said roughly. "You said that I'm the only one willing to listen to the truth and now that we're out of that shit hole, you think that's changed?"
Willow pointed at the door.
"These people want your head. They don't care who you are and they'll put you away behind bars to rot before you even have the chance to blink. No one will listen to you except me and right now, time is running out."
"You're demanding," he cocked his head to the side, eyes moving up and down thoughtfully, "I quite like that."
"You're sick."
"Just a tad, pet."
"You promised," she reminded him once again, her tone stiff and her hand clenched tightly around the cord as if she wanted to wrap it around his neck and strangle him.
"You continue to use that against me but what makes you think I'm honoring it?" He said with a note of irritation in his voice.
"I want to trust you. Actually, that's too strong a word—I want to believe you. Nobody else does, so what's the problem?"
"Little reasoning for such a huge request," Loki replied a little dismissively.
Willow rolled her eyes before uttering the words she couldn't bring herself to believe the moment she had realized it had happened.
"You saved my life."
It was a quiet recognition, one she had tried to put out of her head time and time again, but just couldn't.
Despite her clear hostility towards the god of mischief, she was in his debt and determined to get it paid back. He kept his expression level as it didn't surprise him—those with a considerable moral compass often felt like they had to return a favor in such a situation and she wasn't any different.
"It doesn't mean I like you," she said gruffly at his curious expression, "but it does mean I can give you this one thing in exchange."
"And what is that?"
"A chance to explain."
He was almost amused at the thought even though that had been all he could think about while trapped in that bunker: he knew his actions were irredeemable, but was there really a way to change the course of the rocky path he had found himself on? Before him stood such a prospect and though she looked reluctant, he knew she was equally interested to hear what he had to tell her.
"I saw what was going on in there. Despite what everyone else thinks—your brother, my brother, everyone—I think there's more than this. And you can tell me."
He did not respond, instead taking a few minutes to mull over her words and try to come to peace with his own mind as creeping thoughts began to invade his space.
"Choose wisely."
Loki sighed and gestured to the stool next to him.
The young woman was hesitant at first, suddenly unsure of what she was getting herself into, but she raised her chin and sat next to the god of mischief.
"Living in someone's shadow isn't very pleasant, although I'm sure you know that," he added slyly.
Willow made a face.
"Thor was favored by his father—"
"Isn't he your father, too?"
"Will you continue to interrupt me or may I finish?"
The super soldier rolled her eyes and gave him a curt nod.
"My...Mother," he began hesitantly, "taught me everything that I knew, but what I knew, what I had was not enough for me. I did what I thought it would take to be favored, to be doted on, to be accepted. I wasn't looked at as a son to be proud of or to gloat over by Odin. I wasn't even looked at as a son."
"He mistreated you?"
"In a manner of speaking."
Loki's hands had wrapped around his restraints, fingers taut and jaw tight with what he could only describe as immense discomfort.
It was not in him now to be such a vulnerable and trusting creature, but he had been once and he was determined to be that once again.
So much had been taken from him by his choices alone—what more did he have to lose?
"I wanted to show him that I could be the king he believed Thor to be," Loki muttered, his tone dripping with displeasure.
"My brother was—is a witless idiot and I, no more than a shadow in his glory. We were pitted against each other and admittedly, Thor was treated much more favorably than I. He never attempted to understand me and it wasn't until I realized what I truly was that it all began to make sense. In the end, I lost more than I had and when I was given an opportunity to gain, I accepted it."
"This opportunity wouldn't have anything to do with you talking to some invisible being in the bunker, would it?" She asked warily.
"He offered me what Odin could not. My birthright."
"And you wanted to claim that by coming here?"
"That was not the only reason," he answered with a begrudging tone, "but when I solidified the decision, I lost myself. I can't explain it clearly—"
"Try," she said flatly.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Loki snapped.
"Try harder."
"Your behavior is astonishingly rude, my dear. Must you be so vulgar?"
"Loki," she warned.
The god of mischief cursed under his breath before continuing.
"The envy, the hatred, the need to rule—all of it was magnified," he said, struggling to find the right words.
"I was consumed by my own rage, so very lost in it that I would have done anything to see my brother fall. It was a feeling, one that seemed to control my darkest thoughts and bring it to life. One that was so truly horrifying that I can't even begin to attempt explaining the depths of torment...the level of pain...all I know is that...in the moment...it was not me."
Willow froze.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but she wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was occupied by her lap and Loki was a little relieved she wasn't trying to make eye contact. If she had been looking at him with pity, he would've refused to speak any more, but he doubted she would. Her eyes only burned with disgust and he was satisfied with that much for the time being.
"And I know this...all of this...it is not my brother."
"What you did to Agent Barton," she said swiftly, "how did you do it?"
Loki said nothing and after a few minutes, the super soldier realized he wasn't going to.
He had already given her more information than she knew what to do with, revealing parts of his past and looking so pained about it that anyone would have thought she was torturing him. He had peeled back that facade of his and revealed himself like a nerve albeit reluctantly and now he was clamming back up again.
Willow sighed and stood up to leave when something brushed the back of her hand.
She was not unfamiliar with his touch, but it was different this time as there was no intent to harm her—the soft pad of his fingers lightly pressed against her skin and Willow paused in surprise as he silently urged her to stop.
The god of mischief did not look at her, instead focusing on where their hands met with an expression she couldn't understand.
She waited.
"The scepter," he said so quietly that she almost didn't hear.
His hand slipped away from hers.
Loki didn't say anything more as Willow promptly walked out, the pressure of his eyes boring into her back before she left.
He shifted around uncomfortably, feeling raw and exposed, and yet for some reason unknown, he felt like something had lifted off of his chest—what it was he couldn't have told anyone, but his mind, once a murky place of misunderstanding and confusion, had slowly begun to settle.
Finally.
——————
☀︎ celine's corner ☀︎
long chapters are beginning to become a thing. i capped this chapter at 3265 words and wasn't even halfway done, but luckily for everyone, i split it up—so thank you for reading, to my vv loud and vv silent readers! i appreciate and love you all and if you ever have anything to say, go ahead and comment!
i don't bite 🥰